


Assassin's Creed: Syndicate (Novelization)

by SolaHaze



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Brass knuckles, Child Labour, Eavesdropping, F/M, Ferris Deserved to Die, Fist Fights, Heartwarming, Historically Inaccurate Money, If there is a train there must always be train fights, Novelization, Quips, Sabotage, Sir David Brewster made the Kaleidoscope?, The Templars are Nazis, The Unstoppable Frye Twins, Victorian Slang, charity - Freeform, eagle vision - Freeform, evie is a BAMF, idioms, planning, that didn't go as planned, train crash, train fights, wait
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-24 17:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolaHaze/pseuds/SolaHaze
Summary: "They say this is the modern era. I say, it's time for a rebirth. And we shall lead the way."In the conflict between the Assassins and Abstergo to claim the Pieces of Eden, an initiate is selected by the Assassins to enter the memories of their ancestors to give them the Piece's location before Abstergo finds it. Now they will get to live through the lives of Jacob and Evie Frye, twin Assassins from the Victorian era on a quest to liberate London from the Templars.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love AC: Syndicate. I've never played it, but I've always wanted to. I love making novelizations, and I've had a few issues in the past with them, but I figured since youtube allows let's plays to be uploaded, it's legal to upload this. Most of this will come straight from the game, but I've added my own little twist on things, too. I hope you enjoy, and remember: reviews are much appreciated.

One click and the computer was up and running, already loading the startup processes with haste. It was amazing how advanced technology within Abstergo had become. A long triangular tunnel of flashing images suddenly flattened into the symbol they were waiting for, and a feminine voice spoke through their earbuds.

_"The past is your playground: Abstergo."_

They smiled; now all they had to do was wait.

And not a moment later, the symbol began to glitch. The loading bars underneath stalling, then stopping, then disappearing to be replaced by a small red word: ERROR. Then it all blinked away and replacing it was what they recognized, with a grin, to be the Assassin's Insignia, a triangular shape that looked similar to the bottom of an eagle skull. At the bottom a small text read:

_Hephaestus Overdrive Successful. Welcome, Assassin._

On the screen a woman appeared, her features glitching mildly from the overdrive processes, but they recognized her immediately: Bishop, the one who had been instructing them for the past several weeks. She had black hair, pulled back as usual, and green eyes. She wore a leather jacket; simple, but tasteful. Bishop cleared her throat before pressing a button. Behind her, a world map flashed to life, marked in several locations with both Abstergo's symbol and the Assassins' Insignia. It looked much akin to a news broadcast.

"Hello, Initiate. Recently, Abstergo Historical Research began several new projects in London." The map zoomed in towards the small island nation on the coast of Europe. The bottom area was marked with Abstergo's symbol, glowing red. "We both know that when Abstergo makes big moves, the Templars are up to something." A red Assassins' Insignia took the place of Abstergo's symbol. "We think they're hot on the trail of a new Piece of Eden. I've got people in London looking for it."

That couldn't be good. They had been waiting long enough to get contact from Bishop for their first mission, but they hadn't expected to be going up against the Templars so soon. Abstergo was an organization controlled by the Templars, an ancient group created over a millennium ago. They didn't know much about Abstergo or the Templars, but they knew they were looking for something called the Piece of Eden. And now it was time they got to help stop them.

They'd been recruited into this organization - the Assassins' Brotherhood - a couple of months ago after the Assassins had learned of their ancestral links. They were lucky to have been found before the Templars had gotten to them. Ever since, they'd been training, learning to use the Animus, a device that allows you to relive the memories of your ancestors through genetic code. Now they were finally ready to begin their mission.

They opened their mouth to inquire further, but they were interrupted.

"Hey, Bishop!" The dark haired woman turned her head as a familiar voice came from a monitor on the wall: Rebecca's. "Jacob and Evie Frye are twins!" she exclaimed. "How awesome is that?"

Bishop chuckled, shutting down the map as she began typing in some commands. "Speak of the devil," she muttered, pressing a few things and the screen blinked out black. "Fire up your cameras, Becs!"

The image flashed up, a feed from a small camera drone fluttered, sending footage from the Abstergo intelligence wing.

"I've got picture," Bishop announced as the small drone fluttered to the central part of the room.

The walls were lined with bookshelves, and in the center, there was a desk with a flat-screen computer bearing the Abstergo symbol. Behind the desk stood Rebecca Crane and Shaun Hastings. Rebecca was currently working on something at the desktop, meticulously inputting commands. Bishop steered the drone closer, letting it hover in the air. "ETA on the payload?"

"Sending it now," Rebecca replied, inputting something into the computer. They'd snuck into Abstergo to hack into the system for information. They weren't supposed to be doing this, but when Rebecca and Shaun put their minds to something, they couldn't be swayed.

Bishop hummed quietly, likely scanning over the flood of data coming through to her now. "A lot to sift through. I'm going to get the Initiates on it ASAP."

The screen behind the desk lit up with the Abstergo Insignia. Rebecca turned, a satisfied smile on her face as she clicked something on her wrist controls.

"Let's plant a little bug and see what we can see!" The screen began flooding with schematics, DNA strands, human scans, but Rebecca wasn't looking for that. A flood of emails filed onto the screen, one in particular drawing the redhead's attention.

"Got something," she said. "Isabelle Ardant has a meeting here in a few hours. Doesn't say with who."

"'Doesn't say with whom', Rebecca." Shaun corrected, then nodded to the drone. "And I suppose it's down to muggins here to find out."

"Hold on," Bishop interrupted. "The mission was to find data to locate a Piece of Eden in London."

Rebecca turned back to the drone with a grin. "We did!"

Shaun nodded, holding up his hand. Something charged with electricity was strapped to his palm. "And now I'm eager to try this new kit!"

Rebecca eyed it for a moment before rolling her eyes and walking out of the picture.

The screen blinked out, just leaving Bishop's voice. They could hear the heavy sigh that was more from worry than annoyance.

"I don't like it when those two go off-book like this. Well, all we can do is take a deep breath and move forward."

The initiate felt their chair tilting back. It was a creation of the Brotherhood's, stolen directly from Abstergo. It was time to finally begin their first mission inside the Animus. Glass slid across their vision as the loading bar appeared, beginning the synchronization process. "You'll be searching for the Piece of Eden through the lives of Jacob and Evie Frye, twin Assassins who operated in Victorian London," Bishop informed as the process neared its end, and their vision began to darken.

"Your first set of genetic memories are downloaded."

They closed their eyes.

"Good luck!"

* * *

Evie Frye waited, sitting cross-legged on the bench, pretending to occupy herself with the cleaning of a dagger. Not a moment later, her brother returned, sitting next to her. Jacob caught her eye as he handed a newspaper to her before opening one himself. But behind the paper, she saw his hand slip into his jacket, and out he pulled the letter he'd slyly snatched from George Westhouse. He'd gotten it earlier today, but when Evie asked, he dismissed it, putting the letter away, declaring it was "just another distraction". George had always been a terrible liar.

Jacob passed the letter to Evie, who opened it with her spare hand. The Envelope read the name _Henry Green_. It was sent from London.

The seal was already broken. Unfolding the letter, Evie began to read in a hushed voice.

" _'Brother George, it is as I feared'_ ," Evie frowned as she continued. " _'London has fallen. Thrice have I written to you begging your aid. Thrice you've responded with silence. And yet I write again, so desperate my need, so few my options. I need you. London needs you.'_ "

"London's in danger," Jacob whispered.

"Yes, that's what it says," Evie hissed. "Now hush!

" _'You would say it is too great of a task. Or that is is not yet time to strike. 'Patience', you would counsel-_ "

Jacob chuckled. "Sounds like him."

Evie gave him a sharp look before continuing. " _'But whilst you wait, the Templars consolidate their power. They have chosen a Grand Master so ruthless, so thorough, one might think Reginald Birch, himself, had returned. His name is Crawford Starrick. And he intends to rule the world._

" _'There is no aspect of society he does not control. No industry that escapes his grim touch. By day it is corrupt merchants and venal politicians who hold court. Come night, a vicious street gang known as the Blighters strikes terror in the hearts of all. There is no business untainted by his poison. No person unexploited - be it by duplicity or force._

" _'Our enemy has designs on the highest office of them all. And so as you look inward - and dare I say it - afraid - Crawford Starrick's ambition is fixed on the beyond: to kingdoms and continents as yet unconquered. Though not for long. For he knows - as I have warned you time and time again - whosoever controls London, controls the world.'_ "

Evie closed up the letter, passing it back to Jacob who returned it to his coat. "So," she said. "London is suffering."

Jacob nodded. "Yes, it is, and we need to help it."

Evie shook her head. "You know what our mission is. We can't just go off on our own."

"Why not?" Jacob asked, putting down the newspaper. "It's what father would have wanted."

Evie sighed, folding up her own paper and stowing it under her arm. "No, father would have wanted us to listen to the council. George was father's friend. We should listen to him."

"You heard what the letter said!" Jacob exclaimed, waving the letter in the open for a moment. "London is being corrupted by the Templars. And if we won't help them, who will?"

Evie turned to face her brother, her face a mask of seriousness. "You think I like this any more than you do?" she snapped. "I want to help London, but it's too soon. We will help London... just not now." She turned away, once again opening the newspaper. "Now, go return that letter before George notices it's missing."

Jacob grumbled, but did as he was told. Evie frowned, feeling guilt clasp her heart in its grasp. She shouldn't feel bad. It wasn't time yet. She only hoped it would be soon...


	2. Part I: Spanner in the Works - Chapter 1

_Ferris Ironworks, Croydon, 1868_

The train yard was silent, the air dusty and stagnant. The trains were still and empty, ready to ship out. Surrounding the yard on all sides were grey buildings with towering smokestacks belching billowing black clouds into the grey sky. Cranes stood still like steel sentinels, dangling bundles of barrels filled with petrol ready to feed the machines inside. The only trees were barren and leafless, bark blackened and rotting.

In the shadow of a train car, a hooded figure peeked out, watching as the last two guards disappear into the workhouse. Once they were out of sight, he slipped into the shadows once again, turning back to speak to his comrades: twins, one male, one female, both with dark brown hair, fair skin, and matching devilish smiles.

"The iron ships from here," he said. "The Templar running things is Rupert Ferris, and our target one. Target two is Sir David Brewster, who's got his hands on a bauble that could ruin us in this wretched war." He turned around again, checking one last time for guards. "Think you both can handle it?"

The voice came from above him. "What a question."

The man, George Westhouse, turned around to see his companions were not behind him but rather standing atop the train with smug looks. "Oh, right. My mistake," he sneered, gesturing up at them with mocking theatrics. "Ladies and gentlemen, the unstoppable Frye twins; see them nightly at Covent Garden!"

The twins chuckled quietly, scanning over the train yard themselves as George climbed to the top of the train.

"George, honestly," Evie said. "I've studied the plans of the laboratory and have every route covered."

"And I've got all I need," Jacob extended his hidden wrist blade, "right here." He retracted it with a grin, patting George on the shoulder. "I'll extend your regards to Ferris."

Up the way the sounds of spinning wheels and a whistle signaled their cue to leave.

"Chat later, George," Evie said. "We've got a train to catch."

And with a running start, the twin assassins hopped onto the locomotive, leaving George behind, shouting after them as they sped away.

"Jacob! Evie!" he cried sternly. "May the Creed guide you, you vagrants!"

Evie shook her head. "Poor man, more afraid than ever." She looked to Jacob. "The years have not been kind."

Jacob chuckled. "Evie Frye, where do you get it from?"

Evie returned the grin. "The same place as you, Jacob."

The male twin adjusted his stance, like a cat about to leap from a tree. He calculated his jump as they approached the Ironworks. His sister's stop was further down the line.

He gave her a broad smile. "Have fun."

She giggled. "Don't die."

And with a running start, Jacob leapt off, grabbing hold of a beam and using it to swing onto a platform not a long jump from the window above the building's door. From within... he heard screaming.

* * *

 Jacob dropped down from the window, keeping low as he approached the railing. The room was filled with steam, the structure a mess of platforms, beams, and crisscrossing metal supports. Jacob crouched down as he observed a commotion that was taking place in the center area.

A boy, no older than twelve, laid on the ground, pinned under a fallen metal plate, screaming as it crushed his legs. Two older workers had rushed over and were currently attempting to lift it off of him. Behind them, a door burst open and out walked a stern looking man in a long brown coat and a bowler hat. He looked to be forty or older, carrying a few extra pounds, with a full brown beard. This man, he recognized, was Rupert Ferris.

He gestured to the boy. "How long does he intend to go on like this?" he shouted. "He's disrupting the other workers."

Jacob had never felt such strong dislike to quickly for a person in his life. How could a man be so cruel as to put children in these terrible conditions and show no sympathy when they were injured. No doubt he'd cut the boy's pay or kick him out completely. The only good thing about this situation was that Jacob would feel absolutely no guilt for what he was about to do.

The men finally managed to get the plate off of the boy, who was crying quietly. Ferris threw him a disdainful look, shaking a finger at the workers who held him. "Shut his trap and get the machine fixed!" he commanded, turning sharply on heel and pressing his fingers to his temple as he added: "and send me some laudanum for my head."

Jacob narrowed his eyes at the closing door, whispering under his breath, "coming right up."

Jacob rose to his feet, brushing himself off and scouting the area. He had to get through that door on the other side of the room, but he couldn't just pass the workers looking like the shady vagrant he was. He would need a disguise.

And just as that thought crossed his mind, he heard a voice from his left shouting at him. "Oi! Who are you?"

He turned to see a worker in an overcoat and apron standing at the top of the left stairs, staring at him, looking a little frightened. He opened his mouth again, but before he could utter a sound, Jacob rushed him, tackling him to the ground. He pinned the man's arms and covered his mouth, muffling the indignant shouts from behind his hand. Jacob looked up over the platform to the work area below, worried someone might have heard, but it seemed the machines had drowned out the shout.

Jacob turned back to the worker, who stared at him with wide eyes. Jacob watched him for a moment, having noted his clothes earlier. They were perfect. He leaned down, speaking quietly. "Listen to me very carefully," he said. "I'm going to uncover your mouth and let you stand up, and you're going to remove your overcoat and apron and give them to me. Then you're going to go back to work and keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me?"

The worker stared at him, shaking his head frantically as he tried to call for help. Jacob sighed; looked like he'd have to do this the hard way. He drew back, bringing his other hand up and pinching the man's nose between his fingers, effectively cutting off his oxygen. The worker jerked, struggling and thrashing, trying to throw Jacob off, but as the seconds passed on, his struggles got less and less until his eyes closed and his body relaxed. Satisfied, Jacob removed his hands and lifted the man off the ground, dragging him over to a corner where he could safely, albeit awkwardly, remove his coat and apron. The assassin then propped him against the wall, making it look like he'd simply passed out. If he was seen, he might have his wages cut, but it wasn't like the boss would be around too much longer to terrorize the workers.

Jacob swiftly donned the coat and apron over his own clothes, keeping his cap on to hide his face. He then hurried down the stairs, doing his best to blend with the other workers as he crossed the room. He reached the door less than a minute later, but when he tried it, it didn't budge. He cursed. "Locked."

From the other side of the door, he heard shouting, likely guards noticing the attempt at entry.

"What do you think you're doing?" one shouted.

"Stop now - before there's trouble!" threatened another.

Jacob scowled, turning around. Against the wall nearby, a man in a bowler hat and vest stood with his arms crossed. He didn't seem at all interested in the attempted entry, but he spared Jacob a single look. "No one goes in or out..." he said. "'less there's a problem."

Jacob considered that. No one enters unless there's trouble... so he'd just have to make some trouble. Around the room, he'd noticed three upper platforms, likely meant to control the machines. Jacob grinned, taking the nearest set of starts, muttering to himself. "I halt the machines, that door opens and I have my route to Ferris."

The first platform was occupied by two men, but they didn't appear to be paying much attention to the valve handle as they were to the machine. Jacob could easily enough slip in and turn the wheel before disappearing again and watching as the machine slowed to a halt.

With that taken care of, the rest of the platforms quickly cleared out as people ran to fix the machines. But before anyone could fix the mayhem he'd caused, he'd already sabotaged the other valves. With all the machines shut down, Jacob returned to the catwalk that directly overlooked the door area. Down below, he saw two workers cowering.

"Ferris will have our heads!" one shrieked, releasing a surprised cry as the door burst open, a furious-looking thug stomping forth, looking ready to shoot someone.

"What's all this?" he bellowed. "Which one of you is responsible!?"

Jacob cast off the apron and jumped off the catwalk, bracing himself for impact. He hit his mark, landing right on top of the thug. He drew back his left hand, extending his hidden blade and thrusting it into the thug's neck. Jacob stood, face stoic as crimson began to spill across the floor. The two workers behind him stared in horror as he headed towards the open door.

"Wh-who are you!?" one cried.

Jacob allowed himself a cheeky grin. "The sanitary inspector," he said, as he approached the door. "This man is dead."

But the first thing he saw through the door were several thugs preparing for a fight. "You're the dead man!" one shouted, approaching him as they drew a knife. "Run along home, boy! I'll teach you to beg for mercy-"

He hadn't even finished before Jacob delivered both a left and right hook to his face. He grabbed him by the front of his uniform and brought him down to knee him in the stomach. The man doubled over, giving Jacob ample opportunity to grab his arm and break it, throwing the thug to the ground, the knife skidding from his hand.

Jacob rose to his full height again, pulling off his stolen, now blood-stained overcoat, and throwing it to the ground. He looked up at the rest of the thugs, flashing a cocky grin. "Who's next?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things I changed in this chapter:
> 
> \- I didn't like how in the factory you could just waltz right through, so I gave Jacob a disguise.
> 
> I realized this was going to be too long for a whole chapter, so I'm splitting it up. I'll likely do that with all of the missions.


	3. Part I: Spanner in the Works - Chapter 2

Jacob rolled his shoulders a few times to relieve the stiffness as he walked past the frightened workers, taking a few mocking bows as he stepped over the unconscious thugs. Jacob grinned to himself, kissing his brass knuckles. "Ferris, I'm coming," he whispered.

A large red door stood at the and of the room, and with one push, they swung open. Beyond was a platform overlooking a courtyard. At the edge stood a man in a top hat, an orator he assumed, judging from the commands, encouragement, and threats he was spouting to the men below.

"Any yelling on the factory floor will not be tolerated!" he shouted. "Pain must be suffered in silence!"

Jacob growled, feeling his grip tighten around his brass knuckles. He could get away with killing this one, couldn't he?... No, he couldn't deviate from the mission. Besides, everyone would see him do it, and he couldn't reveal himself before he'd taken care of Ferris.

Along the left was a catwalk that skirted around the entire worker's complex. Jacob didn't see much need for stealth here. Along the way he noticed two children looking at something in the corner. As he got closer he realized they were standing over a woman who was lying on her side in the fetal position. Jacob frowned, hurrying over to the children. They stared up at him as he crouched down beside them.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked. The woman didn't seem aware of her surroundings, only moaning quietly.

"Mr Ferris has cut back on rations, sir," the small boy in the blue cap said.

The girl in the white bonnet spoke next. "She's been giving us her food. She hasn't eaten anything in days, sir." The small child clutched the boy tightly. "She can't work. And I'm worried if she can't get back on her feet, Mr. Ferris'll throw her out."

Jacob narrowed his eyes, then reached into his jacket. He pulled out a small roll of bread he'd been keeping for a snack later. He handed it to the boy in the blue hat. The boy stared at it, then at him, opening his mouth to speak thanks, but Jacob cut him off.

"Hush," he whispered. He pulled out his coin purse, quickly fishing out three ten-pence coins, placing them in the little girl's hand and closing her fingers over it. "Don't thank me," he said. "Just take it, take her, and get out of here."

The boy frowned. "But sir, Mr. Ferris won't let us leave the factory grounds."

"Don't worry," Jacob said, rising to his feet. "Mr. Ferris won't be a problem for much longer." With that, he ruffled the boy's hair through the cap and walked away. There was a ladder at the edge of the platform that lead down to the lower areas. He could see several thugs in the crowd - easily identifiable by their red coats.

Fortunately for him, there was a train engine running right down the middle of the street, the shadow being good cover for him. He slipped down the ladder easily enough and blended to the cover as quickly as he could, walking along the side of the train. A short set of stairs laid at the end, and he saw another bright red door, but a pair of thugs stood in front of it. He ducked behind a crate, quickly going through his pockets. There would be no quick way to go about this.

Jacob had never been the type to think things through as thoroughly as his sister, often acting on impulse. So when he saw no other option, he sprung into action. He climbed atop the crate and took a leap. The first man barely had time to warn the second one before Jacob landed on top of him, plunging his hidden wrist blade into his chest. He swiftly rose, facing the first man, who was trying to draw a knife, but the assassin had already kicked out his legs. The man fell forward, landing right where the hidden blade was extended. Jacob felt the man go limp against his chest, the end of the blade sticking out of his back. He shoved him to the ground, adjusting his cap before turning to the door.

It was opened via a pulley system on the right. Jacob took a hold of the chain, tugging it down, each tug opening the door a few more inches. He peeked around the corner. Inside men were shoveling coal into open flames, the heat traveling up to melt the iron off in another room. Jacob removed his cap, pulling up his hood as he crouched down, sticking to the shadows in the corners. To the right was a ladder to the upper platforms, and a sign on the wall pointing an arrow read in capital letters: MR. FERRIS' OFFICE.

Jacob couldn't believe his luck. Evie had made him study a map before the mission, but he scarcely remembered the layout she'd tried to drill into his head. Now he didn't need it: he was already there.

He moved up the stairs with his hood still up. Once at the top he removed it and replaced his cap, turning down the long stretch. At the end was a doorway into a bright room that appeared to be a postal room or office of sorts, but he saw a lone silhouette standing in the way. Easy enough for him. He rushed the man, driving one of his daggers into his chest, leaving the lifeless body pinned to the ground.

He frowned, wiping his hands off. He really had to be careful: bloodstains would give him away. But out of the corner of his eye he spotted movement, and turned in a flash, his hidden blade extended. But he stopped himself: in the shadows of the hall he hadn't noticed the two children the guard had been speaking to, and now they were staring at him as he stared back, too shocked to hide his blade.

Finally one forced out the words stuck in their throat. "P-please don't kill me! I'm only a child!"

Jacob broke out of his frozen stupor, stumbling back a few steps, horrified with himself. He quickly retracted the blade, dashing off into the postal office without another word. As he rushed by, papers flew from their stacks, landing quietly on the floor. Jacob took a moment to rest, leaning on an oaken table. He had to be more careful next time. But as he straightened up, he heard footsteps, and our from the door ahead lumbered a thug so tall he ducked when he entered the doorway. He was a stocky man with a bald head, suspenders, and a butcher's knife clutched in his hand, which he brandished as his eyes locked on Jacob.

Jacob gasped, fumbling with his blade, but the thug was already prepared. He swung the knife, and Jacob ducked, feeling the wind brush over his hair. He rose, ready to extend his hidden blade, but the thug swung back around, the back of the fist clutching the butcher knife slamming into the right side of his face.

Jacob reeled from the blow, bracing his brass knuckles as he regained his barrings. The thug was readying for another swing, but Jacob struck first, slamming a fist into his chest, which winded him. Jacob never hesitated. He extended his hidden blade, lunging forth and slamming it into the thug's bicep, twisting it violently. The butcher knife clattered to the ground as the assassin tore out the blade before turning and landing a powerful kick to his abdomen. The thug stumbled back, his head smacking into the top of the door frame. He dropped to the ground, effectively unconscious. Jacob's chest heaved; he wiped his mouth with the back of his fist, stumbling forth to the doorway. Beyond was a ladder up to a platform above, and up there, he heard Ferris' voice.

At the top of the ladder, he took a moment to rest. On the wall was a back doorway to Ferris' office. Jacob peered into the room; Ferris was sitting at his desk with a magnifying glass. A worker had entered, looking a little bit nervous.

"Mr. Ferris, sir," he said. "The lad in the factory should be taken to be bandaged by the apothecary."

Ferris didn't look up, but Jacob heard him growl under his breath. "Fine," he snapped. "But dock his wages."

The worker nodded. "Yes, sir."

As the worker left, Ferris stood, turning to a woman sitting at a smaller desk. She wore a green dress with a matching hat worn over brown hair in double braids. She looked like a secretary.

"Take this down," he ordered, beginning to pace as she scrambled to get her parchment and ink out as quickly as she could without spilling it. "'Dear Sir, I am pleased to inform you that I have managed to secure a source of iron ore that will continue to generate a steady profit for many a year to come, and provide the raw material to build several new trains.'" Under his breath, Ferris muttered to himself: "I expect a knighthood for this." The secretary resumed scribbling. Ferris shot her an angry look. "No. Don't write that." He shook his head, returning to pacing as Jacob waited for his opportunity. "'It is my hope that this good news may please you. I await further instructions. I am, etc. etc., Rupert Ferris.' Send it to Mr. Starrick please, Mrs. Stone." He paused right in front of the doorway, staring to the right.

Jacob growled. "C'mon, turn around..."

"And how is your father these days?" he asked her. "I hope the doctor I sent has facilitated a speedy return to good health."

Mrs. Stone nodded as she set out the letter to dry. "Yes, sir. Words cannot say how grateful we are."

Ferris nodded. "Come, come, there's no need for thanks. You and the others in this office are dear to me." Then he finally turned to face her, showing his back to Jacob. "Do let me know if there is anything else I can do-"

Jacob had heard enough. Ferris saw nothing as Jacob snuck up behind him, pulling one of his legs out from beneath him stabbing his hidden blade into his back, relishing the red that gushed from the wound. The secretary whipped around, and the scream had barely left her lips when Jacob felt his vision washing out into white, leaving only himself and Ferris behind.

Jacob knelt down, turning the body over onto its back. Rupert Ferris laid there, unmoving, but his eyes squinted open, betraying the hint of life slipping away. Before them a holographic-looking image of Rupert Ferris stood, looking quite cross. Jacob made eye-contact with the vision before returning his gaze to the body on the ground. "It is done," he whispered.

The body's mouth moved at the same time as the vision spoke, despite being far too weak to speak in reality. "Oh? What did you accomplish, boy?" The words were drenched with venom. "A bolt loosened in Starrick's machine, a large bolt... but not enough!"

Jacob narrowed his eyes at the body. "Your Grand Master will fall."

"You Assassins can circle London to your heart's content." The image glitched, faltering, distorting his voice before stabilizing again. "The mechanism we have built has been going strong for a hundred years and will run a thousand more. It is the very city itself."

"We will take London from your hands."

Ferris raised an eyebrow. "From Croydon? You lurk in the shadows like a coward." He spat on the ground disdainfully. "I doubt it."

And like that, the vision faded as Ferris' body went still, his eyes closing. The blood had stopped gushing out as the heart went silent, its beat forever stolen away by his blade. Jacob frowned, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a white handkerchief. He leaned down, wiping it across the wound that had been opened in Ferris' chest, staining the fabric red. He returned it to his jacket and stood, the world slowly returning around him.

As if he'd only been gone a second, everything was exactly where it had been. Mrs. Stone's scream rang out; she stumbled back, knocking over the ink well all over the letter she'd been writing. Jacob rose, tipping his hat to the stunned secretary. "I'll be taking my leave now, madam," he said before dashing out the other door and down the hall beyond. Up a set of stairs he saw a light, and he doubled his speed, preparing for any opposition he might face. Out the door, a still train laid underneath. Jacob jumped down, landing just as the train began moving.

"Impeccable timing," he muttered, keeping his momentum as he ran towards the engine. His body ached, the wind battered his face, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. He heard voices shouting as he was spotted.

"The Assassin! Kill him!"

"Cut off his head!"

"String him up!"

Jacob stopped on the car behind the coal car. Glancing over his shoulder he saw two red-jacketed thugs dashing towards him, hopping over the train cars as they went, already wielding knives. The one in the lead hopped onto the his, swinging the knife at Jacob's abdomen, but the assassin stepped back, feeling the blade slice into his shirt. He reacted on a dime, kicking the knife from the man's hand before launching onto him without pause, delivering punch after punch, leaving the thug dazed.

Jacob grinned. "Tickets, please!" he shouted, kicking the thug in the gut, watching as he fell off the train entirely.

He looked up at the second thug, who was no longer running at him. Instead, he turned and jumped right off the side of the train car. Next to the train, a carriage pulled by horses kept pace. The thug landed in the carriage, shaking a fist at the assassin as they passed.

Jacob laughed out loud. "Lost your bottle, boys?"

But as the carriage sped ahead of the train, Jacob saw the thug next to the driver wielding a stick. He swung it out, and it struck the lever on the side of the tracks ahead: the railroad switch. The tracks shifted, and the train's brakes activated, the wheels screeching as they grated against the stoppers. It wouldn't be enough; they were already moving too fast.

"Oh, no..." Jacob whispered, watching as the conductor leapt out of the engine, landing in the autumn leaves unharmed. Jacob questioned why he had done so, but when he looked ahead, he saw: the tracks weren't finished. They were speeding towards a cliff.  _He_  was speeding towards his death.

He turned, running and jumping over the cars, knowing it was useless, but he had to try to escape the cars that would soon plummet down over the edge. The car Jacob was on was next, and the assassin just barely jumped off as the car dropped. He reached his hand out, catching the edge of the track, the car right before him stopping at the edge of the cliff.

Jacob took a moment to breathe, glancing down at the smoldering wreckage below. "Well," he muttered, "we seem to have made an unscheduled stop."

Using the cracked tracks hanging over the edge, Jacob climbed down, pausing every few seconds to judge his next move. He gasped, the piece of wood he was hanging off of broke off and fell. Jacob snagged the board right beneath it, feeling his arm jerk at the force. Above him, the train car creaked. He swallowed; looked like it was time to go. Looking down one last time, he dropped to the ground, running up a wrecked car that stuck up like a ramp. He jumped off at the top, bending his knees for impact. He landed on safe ground, tucking and rolling to a stop. The assassin brushed himself off, wincing at his injuries as he looked up at the cliff. The car, teetering on the edge, chose its direction. Jacob shielded his face as it crashed down, landing right where Jacob had been standing two seconds ago.

Short of breath, Jacob stared at the disaster he'd only just escaped, muttering under his breath: "Maybe next time I'll walk."

* * *

**So, during the let's play I noticed two children standing over a curled up woman, so I added them in, just to give Jacob a little heartwarming moment.**

**But seriously, do you KNOW how hard it is to find a converter that will tell you what money was worth in 1868. It told me that three 10 pence coins (or 0.3 of a pound) would be worth 32 pounds nowadays, which is worth 54 Canadian dollars (or $42 USD). That would be enough to feed the three of them for a while.**

**Also notice in the game you can loot Blighters for as much as 3 pounds, which is the equivalent to 318 pounds modern, which equals 540 dollars Canadian. It must've been all the money he has, since they didn't have the best banks back then.**

**I gave Jacob way more quips than he had in the game. It seemed fitting.**

**Little note, since it tells you in the game but it would look odd in a novel. To lose your "bottle" means to lose your nerve.**

**Alright, people! It's Evie time!**


	4. Part II: A Simple Plan - Chapter 1

_Starrick and Co., Croydon, 1868_

After Jacob had jumped off at Ferris' Ironworks, Evie had slipped down into the train car. She had a map to study, and she didn't feel like doing it on the roof of the train.

She held the map in the faint light of a match, committing it to memory. She pointed out each area as she identified it, testing her own recall.

"Yard... Guard quarters... Brewster's laboratory." She tapped the small grey box again. "This is where the Piece of Eden will be located."

After she was sure she'd studied it for a sufficient amount of time, Evie threw the map to the ground, dropping the match onto the parchment. "No loose ends," she murmured. "Now, to decouple the locomotive and create a diversion."

She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, quickly ducking behind a stack of crates as two red-jacketed men stumbled into the car, struggling to maintain balance with the train's movement. The second man carried a lantern which cast the room in its glow. Luckily, nothing of the map remained.

"Well, where is it? Huh?" The first guard shouted, taking the lantern from his partner. "Where's Brewster's supplies?"

The second guard growled, looking out the door. "Meater," he muttered.

Evie kept her back tight to the crate, holding her breath as the glow of the lantern got closer, only releasing it when the radius receded. She peeked around the lowest crate; the first guard was still standing in the doorway, looking reluctant to return out into the rain. Evie prepared her hidden blade and whistled quietly.

The guard turned around at the noise, raising the lantern again. "Who's there?"

Evie did not answer, waiting patiently as the guard moved closer to investigate. once he was within her reach, she jumped out, shoving her hidden wrist blade into his throat, flipping him over her shoulders. She resumed hiding behind the crate until she was certain the sound was not heard, then she rose to her feet, hiding the body behind the crates.

"Time to deploy the diversion."

Hopping onto the next car, Evie lowered her hood. Out on the next car, another red-coated guard stood, but he was downed easily by a single throwing knife. After all: Evie never missed. Hopping over a stack of wood, Evie walked past the body and climbed onto the next car, keeping low. In the next car, she saw two more guards. She smiled. "Hello, boys." She could handle two guards.

She stayed low, listening as she waited. They were talking about Sir David. Evie knew nothing about the man other than the fact that he was an inventor experimenting with the Piece of Eden. But what else was he doing?

"Sir David was working with Miss Thorne." The closer guard said. Lucy Thorne: Evie had heard the name, but not much about the woman. "He's an inventor. He made that tube, the one you stick in your eye."

The further guard shook his head disdainfully. "I know what he's doing to those patients. The eye ain't the half of it."

The first guard cocked his head with confusion as if he didn't understand. "Now see here, mate, I'm talking about a toy," he clarified. "The kaleidoscope."

His partner laughed: a bitter sound that held no humour. "Search out back in the coal yards. You'll see. That man ain't no toymaker."

So Sir David was also experimenting on captives. This was more serious than she'd thought. She would need to be quicker, but she couldn't risk being sloppy. Father wouldn't have let his emotions jeopardize the mission; she couldn't either. So she waited.

When the one further from her had his back turned, she jumped down, landing on top of the closer one, silencing him with a dagger to the throat. When the second guard turned around, all he saw was a black shape, a flash, and then nothing at all.

As Evie climbed up the side of the next car, she heard a cough, making her freeze in her tracks. She peered over the edge, relieved to see it was not a guard within the car, but rather a small family. Evie climbed over the edge, seeing as it was the only way to get toy the next car. The trio immediately tensed when she appeared.

The father spoke first. "Please, miss, don't turn us in," he pleaded. "They'll send us to the lab."

The mother nodded as she clutched a crying child to her chest. "We'll be on our way as soon as the train slows, miss."

Evie held up a finger. "Shhh. Quiet."

The parents nodded, the mother holding the child closer, giving them a stern look. "You heard the nice lady. Hush, child, or else I'll give you a right good hiding!"

Evie began the climb up the other side, barely acknowledging the "thank you, miss," the father gave her as she went.

A few cars up she saw two red-coated guards pacing around the roof. They were speaking, and Evie could overhear little snippets of their conversation as she moved through the car below. It appeared Mrs. Thorne had come by recently, and she was none too happy with what was going on.

Evie passed through the next three cars with no opposition. This train wasn't nearly as guarded as she had expected it to be. At the end, she finally came to the engine. The smoke came down, washing over the car. Evie coughed quietly. "Smells like Jacob's cooking."

She crouched down, leaning over the edge of the car, where the bolt held the entire train line together. It took Evie a good minute, but when she was finished, the pin dropped out and the engine was detached from the rest line.

Evie dusted off her hands. "That should keep you busy while I head into your lab."

* * *

As the engine rolled into the station, Evie hopped out the side, hiding herself from the guards up ahead behind a few crates of coal. The guards rushed past, likely going to investigate the train cars and retrieve the cargo. Only one guard was left behind to watch the engine, easily handled by a throwing knife, but Evie didn't want to let the guards know she was here when they returned, so she rather snuck past. She looked up, spotting a tower of wood in the center of the yard.

 _First, for a bird's eye view,_  she thought.  _Can't be too careful._

She snuck over the yard, keeping her head low. Once she reached the tower, she reached up, activating her grappling hook. It pulled her up to the top of the stack in a matter of seconds, leaving her virtually undetected. Up there, she crawled to the edge and looked around. Inside her, she felt an instinct take control, like a hunter stalking their prey. She could see everything, hear everything, her senses as keen as an eagle poised to strike. Across the yard, she spotted a man in a lab coat and a woman in a dark dress conversing. Their voices reached her heightened senses with ease.

The woman had dull red hair and wore a small hat pinned into it. Her dress was dark, with a high fanned-collar, a round, golden locket hanging at her chest. On her arm, she proudly displayed a white armband with a red cross on it: the symbol of the Templars.

The man behind her was old, with grey hair. Beneath his lab coat, he wore simple, dark clothes. These two had to be Lucy Thorne and Sir David Brewster.

Brewster had his hands clasped before him. "I need two more weeks with the device," he said

Thorne did not turn as she spoke, but Evie's eagle vision caught the disdainful flicker of her eye. "Your questionable practices are beginning to draw unwanted attention," she said coldly. "You've been given more than enough time to achieve results, Sir David."

Brewster smiled bitterly, a little bit of frustration showing through. "I was unaware that you expected me to perform like a cocker spaniel."

Thorne turned, her hands still clasped behind her back. "Permit me to remind you of your obligation to the Order."

For the first time, Sir David expressed malice on that bland face of his, pointing an accusing finger at the taller woman. "Miss Thorne, you ride me like a racehorse!"

Thorne narrowed her eyes, venom dripping from her words. "Sir David. I will return tomorrow," she warned. "If you have not unlocked the device's secrets, forget your dogs and horses; I will leave you to the wolves." With that, she turned and walked past him. "Good day."

Evie scowled, shifting her attention as another commotion arose in the area. A man in a long blue coat and top hat was being confronted by two red-coated guards, and from the looks of it, it seemed he'd been caught somewhere he shouldn't have been.

"I was merely promised a tour of the premises, m'lords," he stuttered, glancing over his shoulder warily.

The first guard stepped forward, leaning in close as he squinted at the man's face. "Who sent you?"

But the second guard had already figured it out. "He's one of Green's spies."

Green. Henry Green the one who'd sent the letter. This man might've been an assassin too... no, an assassin never would've been caught so easily.

Brewster had noticed the commotion, and, seemingly rather cross after his previous conversation, wasted no time in barking orders tot he guards. "Get that man to interrogation," he shouted. "Then I want him brought to the lab."

The guards nodded, taking the man by the arms and dragging him away.

Evie frowned. "What a pity, but no deviations from the mission."

* * *

**Meater - Slang for coward.**

**I kinda made Eagle Vision an extrasensory thing that I guess assassins get via meditation or something. I dunno, but it didn't make sense to show the cutscene any other way.**

**Just realized how Nazi-esque Lucy Thorne's armband is.**

**Remember, reviews are much appreciated. If you liked it, tell me what you liked or why. Tell me how I could make it better. Tell me your reactions. Or, you know, harass me for copyright. It wouldn't be the first time.**

**On that sour note, next up, likely the second-last chapter of "A Simple Plan". After that, "Somewhere that's Green". Also, I was considering novelizing the Jack the Ripper DLC. And if these stories get enough attention, I might just do that. So keep reviewing!**


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